


New Blood Dawn

by The_Keeper, Tudor_Rose



Series: New Blood Dawn [1]
Category: Predator Original Series (1987-1990)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Bad Bloods, Blood and Gore, Character Death, Childbirth, Domestic, F/M, Family Bonding, Forced Pregnancy, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Male Friendship, Original Character(s), Past Abuse, Protective Yautja, Recovery, Romance, Second Chances, Trauma, Yautja Honor Code
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2020-10-25 14:44:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20725925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Keeper/pseuds/The_Keeper, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tudor_Rose/pseuds/Tudor_Rose
Summary: When the spirited son of a Clan Leader rescues a lone female, her body and mind equally scarred, the consequences of his noble deed threatens him and his clan with a reprisal of fire and blood.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the rewrite of an old fic posted on FanFiction.Net a few years ago that I wasn't ready to abandon. The core concept remains the same but the majority has been retooled with a whole new extended cast of characters.

Her eyes were used to the dark, she could see relatively well in the absence of light, the inky mirth dark enough to drown in. She watched the dirt shift as insects scuttled across her view and out of her field of vision.

All she could hear was the shifting of tiny, searching rows of legs sifting through the soil, along with her own, shallow breath. She lay still, willing the earth to pry open some hidden maw and swallow her whole.

She felt no presence, heard no sound as she lay there alone. Her eyes were lidded and heavy, pulling her closer and closer to sleep, causing her to fight the sensation even harder. She knew even in sleep she could not escape. Whenever she closed her eyes, all she could see were the shapes in the dark, a black shadow stretching up the wall, looming as though it were watching her. She could feel the hot air on her neck. Hear the low, persistent rattle in time with her own heaving chest.

Her fingers traced over raised white lines that decorated her arms, each scar and crease a memory, the distant, mental echo of ripping claws and gnashing teeth. She relived each moment as she touched them, her past inescapably etched into her skin in punctures and welts. She lived a nightmare.

Gently, she clutched herself, holding her stomach as she curled up, making herself small, feeling so helpless. She lay still, quiet. It was the only way she knew how to be now_. Make yourself quiet__.__M__ake yourself small. Don’t make him angry. He’s always angry._

Exhaustion finally took over. Her vision became cloudy as her eyelids became heavier and heavier, the urge to fight fading. She would sleep peacefully while she could; if she were never to wake again, that would suit her well.

***

Wolf watched as Scar traced the cloven groove in the dirt with his fingertips. He disturbed the soil at the centre, bringing his fingers to his nostrils as he crumbed it between his thumb and first two fingers.

“Are we far?” Uru inquired, Scar holding his hand up to silence the question.

The company had skulked through the foliage, already crossing through where the canopy was its thickest. Uru stepped forward, swiping Scar across the back of the head. Wolf stood by, watching silently.

“I ask, you answer.” The older male huffed, turning his head in the direction Scar was looking. Scar pointed, before signalling skyward, circling his wrist.

“Tracks still warm. They’re here somewhere.” He replied, tilting his head to look at Wolf. “They may be resting.”

“Then we take position, close them in when they try to run.” Wolf said, trying to squint through the trees. “Lead the way.”

Nodding, Scar moved up onto his haunches, cracking his neck and flexing his back before moving forward to take the lead. “I knew there was a reason I got out of bed this morning.” 

Scar took the lead, practically crawling through the brush, feeling out the hollowed earth left behind by their prey; Quilah and young Ta'hae taking up the rear, Wolf and Uru creeping in formation behind their tracker.

They followed the trail to the end of the tree line, finding a small herd of bipeds grazing on the grass of the boarding brush-lands. Scar pointed. “There.” He whispered, a hint of victory in his voice. Uru glanced over his shoulder, signalling to the others to move up.

“Oh, he is a beauty.” Ta’hae muttered, gripping his spear.

“She.” Uru corrected over his shoulder. “And keep quiet. We don’t need them running off.”

The group moved into their ready positions, Uru nodding to the biggest of the group, the biped female. They would focus on her, when she was downed they would try for the rest. Scar moved himself to be ready for a launch start. Ta'hae and Quilah would throw as he gave chase, Wolf and Uru steering the herd as they ran. As Ta'hae steeped forward, getting ready to throw, they heard a loud crunch, a large, fallen branch snapping under foot. The heads of the young perked up, then the mother’s as hunter locked eyes with prey.

“Ta'hae, you little shit.” Uru snarled through his teeth.

“Aw sweet Paya’s tits.” Scar groaned as he watched the herd grow unsettled, bleating nervously.

“Now!” Wolf called out, darting past Scar as the herd began to spring across the plains, the sound of heavy foot falls and breathing behind him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Ta'hae chanted.

“You will be!” Uru shouted without bothering to look back. “If we lose her, you’ll be taking her place!”

Wolf’s tendrils flapped wildly as the air rushed past his face, his feet kicking up clouds of dust as he ran. The expanse was empty bar from a few tufts of high grass and jutting, rocky outcrops and boulders; there was nowhere for the herd to hide.

The muscles in his arms knotted, his shoulder tensing before the quick release as the wooden shaft cut the wind. He curse himself before it landed, missing its mark as the mother skipped around the spear as it waved from the impact. His eyes scanned the horizon before he extended his left arm, his hand open.

“Spear!” Wolf called, Uru tossing his own forward and into the lead runner’s grasp. All he needed to do was steer her, the rest would work itself out.

He threw, the spear arcing over the beast’s head, the blow into the dirt causing the group to turn sharply to the right, the hunters following.

“Not close enough!” Uru barked, an observation more than a chide. Wolf extended his right arm this time, fingers flayed.

“Scar! Spear!”

Scar tossed the spear forward, Wolf’s knuckles whitening as he gripped down hard. “Stick the bitch!”

He inhaled sharply, ignoring the herd and instead focusing on their path. His thighs burned, his chest hot as he ran towards an outcrop of boulders, climbing the rocks like a flight of uneasy steps, the dust of hoof beats to his left.

Wolf let out a cry as he launched himself into the air, the tension threatening the integrity of his shoulder joint as he threw Scar’s spear downward. With free hands he outstretched his arms, softening his fall and curling himself into a roll to avoid injury. He spun up onto his haunches and looked over his shoulder to see the animal writhing, the wooden shaft skewering her through shoulder and neck. Wolf launched himself at the beast, pushing the spear forward sharply and twisting the tip, ripping it though the creature’s throat, staining the patchy yellow grass black.

Panting, he eased himself to the ground from his haunches and waited to catch his breath. The others made their presence known long before he caught sight of them; Loud hoots followed by heavy chest beating as Scar and Uru rounded the boulder pile, Quilah and Ta’hae appearing over the top, hefting their spears into the dirt next to the kill.

“I call rump!” Ta’hae announced, hand in the air.

“Each to their own.” Quilah cut in, earning a short and sharp uproar from the rest of the group; Scar pointing at Ta’hae, his obvious confusion causing the laugher to lengthen. Turning his attention towards the kill, Scar clapped his hands together, rubbing them. “Step aside, real hunter coming through. ”

“Excuse me,” Uru cut in, edging his way forward, “_real_ hunter? _You_?”

“My spear downed it, you all saw!”

“Wolf was the one throwing it, last I checked.”

“Good observation, Quilah. Very astute.” Scar replied, rolling his shoulders as he took up his spear, the tip still wet with blood. “I won’t deny Wolf’s take down but as I just said, accurately so, my spear brought it down.”

“I still swear mother dropped you on your head.”

The discussion was cut short by a quick flash, followed by the loud, distant boom of lighting. The group turned to see the sky purple with the flash, the clouds above an ominous charcoal.

“No one will be cutting anything unless we can find some shelter.” Wolf said, getting to his feet.

“You think it’ll rain?” Ta’hae asked, looking directly up into the sky.

“Soon from the look of it. And bad.” Scar replied, his eyes scanning the clouds.

“We should make for the tree line.” Quilah urged, jumping down from his place on the rock.

“It’s too far,” Uru cut in, “We’ll be soaked and we’ll have to ditch the kill.”

“Over there.” Scar said, pointing off into the distance. The group turned to face the direction they had ran, a noticeable fissure in the earth. “If we run we might just make it. We can hunker down and wait the storm out.”

“Well, then what are we waiting for?”

***

“How long are we going to be here, Uru?” Ta’hae shouted, huddling tightly against a boulder for protection as the rain continued to beat down on them.

“Wait, wait.” Uru replied suddenly, one hand grasping the back of Ta'hae’s head, pulling him close while placing the other across his brow. Tilting his head, he rolled his eyes back as he began to shake the youth rapidly between clasped hands. “I’m getting something!” He shakes his head even harder, gibbering before snapping his gaze back. “Do I look like a shaman to you?” He asked, pushing him back.

“It’s getting heavier.” Quilah groaned, burying his head further into his chest. Lightening flashed in the distance.

Wolf’s head perked up to what sounded like a voice in the distance. Looking down the right hand side of the passage, he could see Scar, arm extended, gesturing for the others to come. Wolf cocked his head.

“Find something?” He called.

Scar disappeared again.

“What’s that idiot doing now?” Uru asked, hunkering down next to Wolf.

“Think he’s found something,” Wolf replied, gathering his supplies. “It’s worth a look.”

“Worth getting out of this!” Uru cursed, shaking the thick droplets off his head and shoulders.

The group ran towards Scar in a cluster, Quilah taking up the lead with their kill slung over both shoulders, doing his best to keep the carcass dry.

“You’re welcome.” Scar chuckled, indicating the opening to some kind of cavern; the entrance just large enough to allow two grown males to enter shoulder to shoulder. He patted each of his companions on the back on their way past, ushering them inside. Treading carefully down a long passageway, they delved deeper into the rock until they reached the main interior of the cave. Amidst the darkness, numerous openings in the walls led into separate chambers.

“Think anyone lives here?” Quilah asked, adjusting the carcass.

“Not right now.” Uru replied, peering into one of the empty rooms.

“Let’s just keep moving.” Wolf suggested, scanning one large tunnel that travelled further into the cavern. A gale wind whistled through the mouth of the passage, shadows climbing the length of the stone corridor. The group moved slowly inward; Uru leading, followed by Wolf, then Scar, Quilah and Ta'hae taking up the rear.

Quietly, they arrived at the mouth of an expanse; stone corridors leading to small chambers and intersecting paths. Uru braced the frame of one of the passages, squinting in an attempt to peer through the blackness; there was no telling how deep each path went. He shook his head. “This is as far as we go.”

The group slowly ambled around the open space, peering into each opening, no light to cut through the darkness, leaving their eyes to adjust. Uru lightly pushed himself off the wall and moved into the mouth of the cave to his left, the others following close behind.

The cavern was sizeable enough, big enough to house a small family comfortably. Quilah rolled his shoulders, dumping their kill on the floor, Scar bracing and sliding himself down a nearby wall, trying to get comfortable.

“Do you think we’re the first to find this place?” Ta’hae asked, shaking the water from his tendrils, Quilah stepping out of the splash zone.

“Well, whoever was here,” Uru replied, kicking around a gnarled piece of wood on the ground; he bent down, picking it up to examine it, “they’re gone now.”

Wolf glanced over as Uru turned the wooden limb in his hand, holding the wrapped, charred end to his nose, inhaling deeply.

“How long has it been burning?” He asked, the notion of a lit torch turning his stomach. Uru taking another sharp huff.

“A few hours.” Uru said, tossing the torch to the ground. “I don’t like this.”

“You said it yourself,” Scar cut in with a yawn, “it’s been a few hours, whoever was here is probably long gone.”

“You sound confident.”

“Could you see yourself moving in? Could even lay a pelt for father and mama, and look,” Scar sang out, tossing a pebble past Wolf and against the far wall, “the perfect spot for a trophy wall!”

Wolf’s eyes focused as the pebble bounced off the far wall, springing into a little arc and knocking against what looked like a discarded mound of pelts. His grip tightening on his spear as he moved towards the pile, he could have sworn he saw it shift with the pebble’s touch. Something was moving.

“You don’t think someone could still be here, do you?” Quilah asked, nervously glancing towards the entrance, his voice lowering.

“Ignore him.” Scar cut in, stretching out as he itched his back against the wall. “You scare too easily, brother. We can wait out the storm in here.”

“It would be foolish to at least not be cautious.” Uru turned to look down at his little brother. “There’s a torch here. Someone was here, where did they go?”

Scar shrugged in response. “Who cares?”

“You should!” Uru spat back, keeping his voice low. “I’m surprised you didn’t get yourself killed on your way out of mother.”

As the brothers bickered, Wolf edged himself slowly towards the mound of pelts. He adjusted his spear in his hand, gripping towards the head to be ready to strike as the fingers of his free hand moved through coarse, thick hair. He seized the pelt in a fist, slowly pulling it down.

“Wolf, what is it?” Ta’hae called out.

She lay motionless, her eyes heavily lidded. Wolf was unsure if she was even aware of him. Her body was waifish and pale from what he could see. She was balled up, so still she seemed almost frozen. As his eyes examined her upper half, he could see the raises and ridges that were etched into the skin of her bare back and sides, some thick, heavy white creases, others deep clefts. Very little of what the light allowed him to see was left untouched.

He didn’t hear the others approach but he could feel their gaze, just as focused on her as he was.

“Gods have mercy.” Uru muttered, a noticeable shake in his voice, as if some fear was confirmed.

“What could have done this to her?” Ta’hae asked, his voice wounded. Wolf covered her back up with her blanket before turning back over his shoulder.

“They could still be here.”

Uru gripped his spear firmly, darting towards the doorway. He peered out, eyes scanning as much as he could see. “We need to go. Now.”

Wolf stood quickly, pushing his spear into Ta’hae hand before bending down quickly, gathering the female in his arms, taking a firm hold of her, rising carefully.

“We’re taking her?” Quilah asked, Uru’s head whipping round to look at the group

“What? No chance. We need to get out of here before we’re noticed.”

“Uru, look at her…”

“I did.” He spat back. “I won’t invite whatever did this to her down on us.”

“Do you think she’s alright?” Ta’hae asked in a tone that would suggest he had known her all his life. Uru let out a growl, turning on his heels to face them.

“Shut. Up.” He growled with a throat full of gravel. “Why are we arguing about this? We need to go. _Now._”

“Then we go.” Wolf cut in, stepping forward with the female in his arms. “I’ll carry her. If I’m too slow to keep up, then you keep running.”

“You think I’m going to be the one to tell Tarik we lost his son?”

“Then I’d best keep up, shouldn’t I?”

Uru scrutinised the group. Wolf felt a hand on his shoulder as Scar stepped to his side. The others moved in close, as if to show their support. Uru spat on the floor, eyes narrowing. 

“Anything happens, get behind me. If I tell you to, run.” 

The others flanked the now unarmed Wolf, Uru taking up the lead. Nervously scanning the area, they searched for anything out of place. They moved cautiously as they made their way back towards the mouth of the cave, forsaking their kill for speed. As they moved, Uru froze, his body instinctively taking up a defensive stance. Wolf peered over Uru’s shoulder to the previously pitch black path. There was a speck of light in the distance, lightly swaying as it grew larger.

“Move,_ now_.”

They moved on the back foot, tight together as they picked up speed. Whoever was there would be too far to see them even with a lit torch, giving them plenty of time to move. Quilah took the lead, arm outstretched to guide them as they navigated their way though the corridor which now felt cramped and claustrophobic.

The group exploded from each other as they were greeted by sunlight, darting along the canyon to find the easiest path up. Scar took Wolf by the shoulder and steered him, Ta’hae palming his way along the ridge with Wolf’s spear tucked in the crook of his arm as Uru started to climb. Scar marched Wolf towards a jagged outcrop, a narrow path leading up to the top was hidden just out of sight. Taking a firm hold of her, Wolf started to move, his feet shuffling against the muddy, pebble dashed ground, cautious that he might fall or drop her.

He could feel Scar’s hands on his back, aiding him to the top of the slope which was reached with difficulty due to the wet earth beneath him. The group convened at the top, Uru peering down into the crevice. They could hear shouts echoing from the cave, just close enough to give them pause.

“How many?” Scar asked, his eyes scanned desperately for any sign of movement in the shadow of the cave’s mouth.

“Enough to be considered too much.” Uru muttered, turning to look at Wolf. “Can you run with her?”

“Not like this.”

Uru slipped his hands under the female’s back, Wolf feeling her body tense in his grip. He worked quickly to move her onto Wolf’s back, his hands tightly gripping the backs of her thighs. Uru snatched Wolf’s spear from Ta’hae’s grasp after adjusting her fur. Removing the knife from his leg holster, he pierced the hide, threading the blade through the flesh and hair on the other side to keep it in place.

“You have her tight?”

Wolf nodded in response, adjusting her on his back.

“You don’t think you’ll drop her?”

“I won’t.”

“You better not. I’ll throw but I’m not stopping.”

“They sound like they’re getting closer!” Scar called out over his shoulder before backing away from the canyon’s edge.

“Then we get to the ship. First one there gets us ready. Stop for nothing!” Uru barked before taking off at full speed, the others sprinting close behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

Her head was just starting to clear, the throb slowly fading. The time spent in the caves had helped her eyes adjust to the low light, the shadows becoming less murky with every passing day; the artificial lights overhead now pierced her skull, causing her to squint and tear from the raw pounding behind her eyes.

Rising on unsteady feet, she began to pace the small room she had been placed in; the cold, metallic floor unfamiliar under her soles. As her mind cleared, fear began to fill her, slowly giving way to a deeper feeling of confusion. Who were they? They had taken her from what she had the misfortune to call home but they were not raiders, their party too small to meet any form of resistance. Their actions seemed to be conducted without motive; she remembered the obvious displeasure of what appeared to be the eldest male at their intention to take her, yet still he went along with the plan, at the urging of his junior no less.

The young female approached the door, edging forward slowly with the pelt she was found in wrapped around her for both warmth and security. They had laid out a makeshift bed for her along the far wall but the room was otherwise bare.

As she reached out, stepping forward slowly, she felt the door shift under her fingers, sliding into its frame. They had taken her, dressed a room for her and left. If they had any intention to harm her or take her by force they would have done so. She knew the intentions of males well; they hadn’t even locked her door.

She stepped tentatively into the hallway, shielding her eyes from the much harsher light outside. She had slept little and she was not stirred by movement outside. She peered to her right side, then her left, tilting her head and straining to listen to the strange sounds of the ship, a faint reminder of the day she was uprooted but somehow a distancing from her recent situation.

They were faint at first, masked by the churning and humming of the operational systems of the ship. Foreign sounds made her cautious, she had learned to isolate them from ambient noise, anticipating arrival, ever expecting the violence. She padded quickly back into the room, fearing the one approaching would hear the door shut as she carefully lay herself down on the makeshift bed, closing her eyes tight.

Her eyes remained shut when she heard the door close behind him. She dared to squint, stealing a look at him. He was stripped of his tanned chest dressing and bandoleer, his body lithe and lightly knotted with muscle, a young male but perhaps older than her. He was kneeling, placing a bowl of some kind of dried meat and paste, another with water on the floor with careful fingers. She clamped her eyes shut when he lifted his head, as if to look at her.

She rolled slowly in her feigned sleep as the door opened but she heard no movement for a moment. “I thought you might be hungry.” he said, her eyes opening to stare at the wall. “You don’t need to eat now, just when you’re ready.” And with that he was gone, the sound of his footsteps dying off down the hall.

She shifted slowly toward the food, a simple travel meal. She reached for the bowl, sifting the sticky pulp with her fingers. She knew his voice, the one to spoke for her, fought to take her away. She shook her thoughts aside, scooping the paste with her fingers and bringing it to her mouth. It was wet and plain but enough to awaken her appetite, her guts starting to churn as she took a mouthful, then another before her hunger got the better of her. She began to shovel mash and meat into her mouth with ravenous vigour, gorging herself. The tasteless meal was like ambrosia to her; for a plain meal was better than those countless nights with her stomach empty, hoping for starvation to take her. 

***

The tension sat heavy like a monsoon sweat as Wolf entered the mess area, the others already sitting down to their gruel. He glanced around, not an eye lifting from their bowls as he took his seat. He drummed his fingers on the table as a bowl was slid under him. He looked up, nodding to Quilah as he began to eat.

They put the female up in a disused storage area, throwing down their sleeping pelts for a makeshift bed; it wouldn’t be a long journey, they could sleep rough for a few nights if need be. He fingered through the bready mush, picking at his meat, the events of the day playing on his mind. He acted purely on impulse but now, looking at the others, he began to question his choice, all brash spontaneity, no logic; he had done the right thing surely but still couldn’t shake his doubt.

The sound of the door opening shook him from his thoughts as Uru stomped heavily into the room, throwing himself down into one of the chairs. His tendrils still dripped with water from the deep wash he had given himself after his arrival, caked head to toe in mud, heaving from a hard, hours long run. They had started to panic when he failed to appear, then worried soon after about possible pursuers. If he had taken time to mask his heat and sent then they could at least be content Uru had lost anyone attempting to track them. 

He sat hunched with his fists partly balled, chest moving in slow, deliberate ebbs. Wolf raised his eyes only to find Uru’s hard gaze ready to meet his. His brow was etched with hard, furrowed lines. His mandibles slowly flaring. His eyes fell back to his meal, though he couldn’t help but feel Uru’s hot, lingering stare.

“Are we going to talk about this?” He asked, breaking the silence with a low rumble.

“Here.” Scar interjected, placing a bowl in front of his brother, only for Uru to instantly swipe it away, the bowl ringing as its contents spilled across the floor. Both Quilah and Ta’hae’s head’s shot up from their meal. Scar stepping back to clear space as the two opposing males pushed themselves from their seats.

“You’re all happy to sit and eat your slop like good little pups and ignore the bigger issue here.”

“If there’s an issue,” Wolf said calmly, holding his palms up, “then by all means, Uru.”

“Who. The hell. Is she?” Uru spat, jabbing his finger at Wolf, punctuating each syllable. “We ditch a perfectly good kill, wasting a day’s hunt and for what? What did we do, Wolf?”

“Uru, it’s been a long day,” Quilah interjected, slowly edging his way towards the older male, “perhaps we should just-”

“Oh shut it!” He barked back before his gaze met Wolf’s again. There was something more than anger in his eyes, an uncertainty that put Wolf on edge. “She wasn’t alone. Who did we take her from?”

Wolf kept a hand up, palm upward as he rounded the table towards the older male. He approached slowly, measuring his response carefully.

“Uru, you saw the shape of her.” He began, now craning his neck slightly to look up at him, just inches away, “I know, we took a risk-”

“_You _took that risk.”

“-and I understand that. I take full responsibility for that, but fighting won’t change what’s happened. Perhaps I should have done nothing, or we should have left without her. I understand how you feel, but I’d like to think you would have done the same.”

Uru’s eyes scanned the room, meeting every nervous gaze before looking back at Wolf, still standing with and arm outstretched. He sighed deeply, letting himself fall back into his seat.

“They could have been anyone,” He mumbled, his eyes softer now, more doubt than rage, “she was a sight. If they had done that to her, the same could have been invited on us.”

“Only if they’d caught you.” Scar piled up, edging past Wolf and moving to stand behind his elder brother. “You’re a lug. Big, noisy, but there’s no better tracker, well, aside from myself, than you.”

“You weren’t followed; not that we could see.” Ta’hae added, his voice squeaking with new found confidence.

Wolf slowly lowered himself to meet Uru’s eyes, reaching carefully to place a hand on his shoulder. “I was rash, you’re right but I couldn’t just leave her. I wouldn’t bring any kind of ill fate upon any of you, all I can ask is that you trust me.”

“That is a big ask, Wolf. We have no idea what we’re getting ourselves into.” 

“No one can know what a new day brings, but we can face it together.” He said, forcing a smile. “Now, eat, my friend. Please.”

With that they all returned to their seats, Uru taking his bowl back from Ta’hae who handed it off to him sheepishly, Scar refilling it for him. Wolf could still feel his heart in his throat. Uru was no coward but he had every right to be cautious. They would all feel better once they’d reached home.

***

She slowly paced the room, trying to ease the pain in her stomach as muscles tightened and twisted, her meal that she ate so veraciously threatening to resurface. She’d been unable to stop herself, hunger becoming overwhelming when met with the smell. Squatting against the wall, she clenched her eyes, breathing deep as she willed her food to remain down, assuring herself it would pass. It was was a short lived relief as the cramps started to quickly intensify and the horrible realization dawned on her that she was going to vomit.

Falling onto all fours, she felt her stomach churn, her throat opening and clenching as her hands padded the floor, searching for the bowl. She couldn’t hear the door over the sound of her loud, gargled gagging. Her shoulders squared, body tense, eyes watering as the bowl was passed under her, a hand and wrist coming into view. She couldn’t think, seizing the bowl from the hand and closing her eyes, its previous contents returning to fill it violently.

The hand rubbed her back as she dry heaved.

“Easy.”

It took a few more minutes before her heaves finally began to subside, leaving her dizzy and drained. As much as her tired muscles would allow she set the bowl aside before attempting to push herself off the floor. Feeling her weakened legs give out from under her, she yelped before trying again only to be caught, his hand fully clasping the width of her upper arm, guiding her with him as he stood.

Her entire body went ridged, causing him to release his grasp. She backed away from him though she never averted her gaze from his. She continued to remain still, never speaking and he got the impression that she wasn’t going to. If he wanted to find anything out, he was going to have to take the first step.

“What’s your name?” The male asked, looking down at her. He was big, dwarfing her even in his fairly relaxed stance. “Can you speak?” His second question once again greeted by silence. He stepped forward, holding his hands up to her, palms open as she readied to make what limited retreat.

“No one’s going to hurt you,” he soothed, “I just need to ask you something, that’s all.”

Her eyes never left him as he began to slowly pace, not attempting to approach her. He lumbered from one side of the room to the other, scratching the back of his head in thought; he looked nervous.

“We found you in some state,” he began without looking at her, “you were not on the agenda but I think you know that. Those scratches,” he pointed, causing her to clutch the hide to her body, “Who did this to you?”

She still couldn’t answer, the distance between her and the stranger doing nothing to dissuade her, one large body between her and the nearest exit.

“We put our necks out for you and, well, here you are.” He said with a dry snort of forced laughter. “They were your clan, weren’t they? Your people? How many of them are there?”

She tightened on the hide, her knuckles whitening.

“Are they dangerous?” He asked, a little more desperately. “Would they have followed us?”

She stood, the tension in her body the only thing stopping her from shuttering like a leaf as she watched his brow furrow hard, his shoulders tight and squared before he growled, “Can you even understand me?”

She opened her mouth as if to offer a reply but here nerves stopped the sound in her throat. The large male’s jaw tightened. He turned sharply, throwing his fist into the nearest wall with a clatter, the moaning strain of bending metal sounding under the weight of the blow. “Will you just talk?”

Her focus was pulled by the door hydrolics sounding, it sliding away to reveal a more familiar figure in the frame. The younger male stepped into the room, the one who had delivered her meal to her.

“Uru!” He barked, more shock than aggression. “What is this?”

“What does it look like? Trying to get some answers.” Uru snapped back.

“Answers?” He asked, silently regarding the female who remained frozen in place. Her eyes darted nervously between the two males, still holding her pelt protectively around herself. Wolf returned his gaze back to the older male. “Uru, look at her. What do you expect her to say?”

“Something!”

The female flinched violently, trying to stifle her rapid breaths. Tentatively, Wolf stepped around Uru, placing himself between the both of them. He signalled to her with his hand, palm facing upward, glancing over his shoulder as if to reassure her.

“Give her time, Uru. She’s in no condition.”

“And who was the cause of that?” He asked, glancing over Wolf’s shoulder at the female, causing her to take a few steps back. Wolf moved to obstruct his view. “If that’s what they do to their own, what do you think they’ll do to us?”

“You would just leave her?” Wolf urged, stepping closer. “This isn’t you.”

“Do. Not. Make me the villain in this, Wolf.” Uru snarled, jabbing a clawed finger at his chest. Wolf opened his arms, allowing Uru his frustration, inviting none of his own upon him.

“Never.” he shook his head. “I would never. But look what we’ve done together. We couldn’t leave an innocent, allow something so vile to continue unchallenged.”

“No. Instead we risk bringing it to our own.” He countered, his eyes dark and hard. “To our females? Our young?”

“Uru, please,” Wolf reached out, placing his hands on the older male’s shoulders, trying to placate him, “don’t do this.”

“_Don’t_ you give me orders!” He barked, swatting Wolf’s hands aside. The young male used the momentum of the push, hooking his arms around the larger one’s waist, hefting himself forward towards the door only for Uru to reach down, roaring as he lifted Wolf off his feet and swung him into the wall. The two males broke contact, the younger male braced against the wall.

She let out a shriek, retreating into the corner of the room to create more distance between the pair. The sound of her panic pulled their focus, Wolf launching himself off the wall, diving at the older male. Uru side stepped, swatting at Wolf. He took the hit to the side, locking Uru’s wrist under his arm.

“Uru, stop!”

He reached down, seizing the back of Wolf’s neck, swinging his body from side to side, trying to shake him loose. Wolf threw himself forward, slamming his shoulder into Uru’s chest, ramming him into the door frame. Uru grasped Wolf in a firm headlock, locking his foot behind the younger males own, only for Wolf to take his other foot and kick against the wall, launching himself into a spin. Both males crashed to the floor.

The room was awash with strained barks and grunts as the two shifted on the floor, limbs tense and constricted as they fought to gain the upper hand. Uru rolled onto his side, forcing himself onto his knees and slamming his body down, causing Wolf to cry out as his back met the floor with a crash. The female in turn let out a hard, whimpered cry from the corner of the room. Wolf released his grip on Uru’s abdomen, taking hold of his arm and quickly repositioning his legs, trapping the older male’s neck between his thighs and squeezing hard. He gasped, using the younger male’s grip on him to enable himself to lift him again, once more slamming his body into the floor.

As the two males struggled, the door opened to the rushed panic of the other young hunters, their voices an almost incoherent amalgamation of pleas to the fighting pair as they leapt upon them.

“Stop this, stop this now!” One of them barked, pulling at the older male’s shoulders, another young male trying to soften Wolf’s grip and pry him free. She watched, shaking before she felt the presence of another close by her. She yelped again, releasing her grip on the pelt, giving her a free hand to swat him away.

“It’s alright.” He urged, reaching out a hand to coax her; he was easily the youngest of the party. “Come, let me help you back to bed.” She took his hand, tentative as he lightly gripped her shoulder with the other, helping her stand.

“What do you think you’re doing?” One of the new arrivals demanded. “Brother, could you not leave well enough alone?”

“As I couldn’t get any answers from any of you,” Uru began, rubbing his neck and clearing his throat, “I thought she could at least give me something to go on, thought she would not speak to me.”

“And you’re surprised?” The other questioned, his eyes wide, voice pitched with bafflement. “Uru, at least wait until we are home.”

“Are you hurt?” The brother of Uru asked, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“I’m fine. It’s not as serious as it looks.” Wolf reassured, before turning his gaze to the older male. “She is in no fit state to answer you and we are just as much in the dark. Uru, please wait until we’ve reached home. I’m sure she can tell us what you seek and more.”

They all turned their gaze to her, causing her to avert her eyes and squeeze the hand of the one who escorted her to her bed. “She seems well enough,” the young male offered, “though a little shaken.”

“She needs to rest. Perhaps it would be best if we did the same.”

As the two other young males made their way to leave, Uru grasped Wolf’s arm firmly before he could move, causing the others to stop.

“Uru, come on-” groaned the younger brother.

“Shut up.” Was all the elder could reply. His eyes were fixed on her, his gaze unblinking and hard. She could not see the fire of rage but the cold, sharp chill of raw panic. Wolf looked to him, slowly pulling himself free from his grip. “What is it, Uru?”

His eyes, which guided the eyes of the others fell on her abdomen; now bare, unable to adequately cover herself, still in the young male’s grip. Hastily, she pulled her hand away from his, instinctively using it to cover her belly. Even at this stage, the tautness may well be obvious due to her reduced diet and smaller, waif like frame. She sat down on her bed, bringing her knees to her chest and covering herself with her pelt as she felt each pair of eyes scrutinizing her.

“She isn’t, is she?” One of the younger males asked, turning his head to look at Uru’s brother nervously.

“How should I know? There would be no way to tell, not at this stage without a doctor.” He answered back, his voice and face betraying his words.

Uru swallowed hard. When he did finally speak, his voice was dry and unsure, as though he were contemplating the conclusion to some cruel joke. “We haven’t just taken one.”


	3. Chapter 3

The rest of the journey had been spent in mostly silence, each one keeping to themselves while Wolf acted the young female’s primary caretaker. Uru took it upon himself to act as navigator, re-plotting and changing their course twice, adding in a light jump to lengthen their journey by a two standard cycles. Before their discovery the others would have thought him paranoid; now sharing his concern, they had all silently agreed that the precaution could very well keep them safe. 

As the doors opened a rush of pleasant, humid air hit them along with a bright ray of light as it filtered through the trees. The morning mist was just beginning to clear as the echoes of the jungle started to come to life.

They disembarked, forming a protective enclosure around the female as the began to march toward tree line. While Wolf couldn’t shake the nerves from their hunting trip, the familiar sounds of jungle bird and the lush greenery filled him with a slowly growing sense of relief; they were home.

A rustling came from above their heads causing them to all look up in alarm. A little canopy dweller jumped from its current branch onto another, running along its length. They sighed, glancing at each other. They were cautious of every sound and shift of the foliage above; these jungles had eyes.

“You don’t think he’s out here, do you?” Scar asked, looking over his shoulder to address the group.

“If he is,” Uru said, eyes scanning the greenery, moving forward as if to conceal the female, “then he’ll have seen us already.”

“Why so worried?” Ta’hae asked. “He’d hardly tell on us, would he?”

Uru scoffed in reply. “If you think that, then you don’t know Veno. If he’s seen us, your father will already know,” He said, nudging Wolf’s back with the butt of his spear “if not everyone and his mother. Creepy old bastard.”

“If he’s seen us,” Wolf chimed in, not even turning his head to look at Uru, “then he’ll know you said that.”

“And what _you’ve _done.” Uru snapped back, his eyes nervously scanning the trees again, the notion of Veno hearing his insult putting him on edge.

“Then that’s why we keep quiet.” Wolf urged, looking over his shoulder to look at the female. She seemed calmer but still distant. He knew Uru was right. If Veno had seen them, his father would already have received word; he needed her to get seen to before his father could get involved. With Veno’s years of experience and his love of the isolation the deep jungle provided, they would need to keep themselves off the radar. 

“Almost there.” Wolf said, turning back to the female in what he hoped to be a reassuring tone. She didn’t look up.

“Don’t worry about Veno, he’s not that bad.”

Scar snorted, earning a backhand to the stomach.

“Could everyone just shut up until we are home_ please_?” Uru groaned, massaging his brow. It had been a long few days , their unprompted activity adding to the strain. Wolf glanced back at her again; she walked slowly, eyes low as she continued to hold her worn out pelt around her frail body in a futile attempt to conceal both herself and her condition. She met his eyes briefly, catching his gaze before instantly lowering them again, looking away. Glancing behind her, he could see Uru watching her, his gaze soft, a subtle but evident sadness. Their eyes met, just for a moment before Wolf turned to concentrate on the road ahead. He felt a twinge of shame for mistaking Uru’s concern for them for apathy.

They arrived at their destination shortly after, moving from the denseness of the trees into the clearing they called home. Even as the sun continued to slowly rise, the village was already alive with activity. Fire pits were being relit, meat and pelts hung from wooden racks while others were skinned. Hunters returned carrying baskets of fish with their pikes fastened to their backs while others carried larger game. Naked pups ran around, weaving in and out of erected poles, batting smoked fish at each other and hiding behind newly worked skins only to be sent off squealing by irritated mothers.

The clearing was peppered with mud brick dwellings, each topped with a wooden frame and tightly woven grass thatch to keep out the elements. Centrally placed towards the back of the village was a large, rounded structure, used for meetings and the settling of disputes when they arose; it was also the dwelling of the clan leader.

While everyone else was preoccupied with their own doings, the group’s presence went mostly unnoticed save for the few looks and nods they received from the occasional passer by, the young female huddled among them escaping their glances.

Uru suddenly broke from their formation, walking off in another direction.

“Where’re you going?” Scar called.

“Home.” Uru didn’t look back. “I am_ going _home.”

“Leave him be. We’re almost there.” Wolf urged, glancing back at the female. They made their way to a built up dwelling, slightly larger than those around it. Wolf approached the doorway, slipping his hand behind a hanging curtain that separated the dwelling from the outside world, peering inside; “O’Molo?”

Inside a series of containers sat on a brewing stand above a lit fire built up in a small hearth, various herbs hanging in bundles on a rack next to a set of stacked shelves. The owner of the dwelling looked up from her work at a pestle and mortar. She stoop up, setting her mixture aside as she approached.

“Wolf. You’re home.” O’Molo greeted, he voice deep and firm. She frowned, tilting her head. “What is it?”

“We’ve just returned. We need you.”

She moved to take up the shape of the frame, holding the tarp as Wolf moved back outside. “Can it wait? I’m busy right now and I need-”

Her eyes scanned the group; Scar stepping aside to give her a better view of their new companion. Wolf watched O’Molo’s eyes widen as she came outside, extending her hand to the younger female. “Oh you poor thing! Come, come here.”

She approached slowly toward the urging hands of the herbalist, gently placing them on her shoulders, ushering her towards the house. “Let’s get you inside.”

The males watched the two disappear, only for O’Molo to join them moments later. Her eyes were fixed and stern. “Would one of you like to tell me what’s going on?”

“We need to you take a look at her. She’s in bad shape.” Wolf asked.

“I can see that.” She replied sternly, not even attempting to hide her impatience. “I mean, who is she?”

“Relax, Momo.” Scar soothed, stepping forward only to have a pointed finger thrust into his face, causing him to step back, hands raised. “We found her on our hunt.”

“_Don’t _Momo me.” She said, her eyes narrowing before her gazed shifted to Wolf. “Explain. Now. And it had better be good.”

“We found her in a tunnel system. In a cave.” Wolf explained. “Even in the dark we could tell the shape she was in. We couldn’t just leave her.”

“Does Tarik know about this?”

“_No._” Wolf almost barked, glancing over his shoulder before stepping in closer. “No. Father can’t know about this. Not yet.”

“You want to go over your father’s head and get me involved in this too?”

“I’ll tell him,” Wolf pleaded, reaching to lightly squeeze her shoulder, “It was this or wait until I got his approval. You’ve seen her, O’Molo. She needs help.”

She looked over her shoulder at the closed curtain, letting out a sigh before looking back at Wolf. “Leave her to me, I’ll see what I can do. She’ll be cared for but you _will_ tell your father. I’m not keeping any secrets.”

Wolf nodded. “You have my word.”

“We knew we could count on you, Momo.” Scar smiled, moving forward with arms extended, putting his hands on her and pulling her in towards him, only for O’Molo to place a hand on his chest, looking down at him as she lightly pushed him back.

“Now take yourselves off. I’ve got a patient to tend to.”

The males nodded in thanks as she stepped inside, replying with one of her own before letting the curtain fall.

“Oh, she is something, isn’t she?” Scar sighed musingly, earning a look from the rest of his companions.

“What now?”asked Quilah.

“We go home.” Wolf began, stepping in and beckoning his friends to him. “We just got back, we’re tired and no one knows anything about anything for now.”

“And Tarik?”

“Give her time to rest. I won’t keep him waiting long.”

The group, drained for the unexpected adventure that came with their hunt, slunk back to their dwelling to rest in the hopes of forgetting the unwelcome excitement. Wolf marched to his hut, quickly retrieving a clay container before walking to a dug well near the centre of the village. He filled the pot quickly before returning to his home, scooping handfuls of water and throwing them over his neck and face, shaking himself off as he pushed the curtain aside before entering his home.

The interior was of a modest size with a fire pit in the centre of the room. The skulls of a few small animals dressed the far wall, his kitchenware kept in a neat pile next to a rack for drying skins and pelts. Leaning against one wall was a spear with stood upright next to a wooden hook. He put the water down on the floor, taking his dagger from his belt, hanging it from the hook by a leather strap.

Wolf squatted down by the pit, lighting a small fire and filling a drinking bowl with water, hanging it above the pit by a stand and rod. He ground some root and a few berries in his palm, throwing them into the water and watched it boil as he stirred. His stomach wouldn’t settle but he knew he couldn’t eat. He stood, drawing the curtain across his window before retrieving the small pot carefully from the fire, splashing the back of his neck with water before making a start on his root tea. He sipped quickly, unable to let himself enjoy the taste, the liquid burning his tongue.

He poured the dregs into the pit, extinguishing the fire with a hiss, a bitter smelling smoke rising as Wolf shuffled towards his bedding, a pile of furs lying to one side of the window. He crawled into the soft bundle, pulling his blanket over himself. He would worry about his father, the female was in safe hands, O’Molo would know what to do. Wolf closed his eyes, trying to settle enough to give himself over to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

The young female sat on a fur matt in the centre of the room, knees drawn up with her hide pulled around her front as she watched the much larger female, O’Molo, walk about the room, reflexively collecting various herbs and roots to grind into a poultice. Sparing the young one a slight glance, she smeared the mixture between her fingers, testing it’s consistency before crushing some more until it was a smooth salve.

She approached the fur, slowly lowering herself into a squat in front of the young female, setting the pestle to one side, wiping the excess from her fingers onto her own arm. She looked the herbalist up and down, the difference in stature obvious even in their sitting positions.

“You look tired,” said O’Molo, moving herself into a more comfortable position, “when was the last time you had a full night’s sleep?”

She averted her gaze self consciously, this female could probably tell her story from what little she could see of her. Her eyes probably told more than she could. She blinked a light mist from her eyes before returning her gaze. O’Molo’s eyes softened, smiling at her.

“You’re in good hands. Unlike your new friends, I know what I’m doing," she nodded with a light smirk. Slowly she reached out, her palm open. “I’ve been asked to look after you, so I intend to see to it that you’re well.”

She slowly touched her hand, the young female’s grip slowly weakening, allowing O’Molo to peel the pelt back, letting it fall to the floor. She watched O’Molo’s face as she scanned her body, she reached out, slowly tracing her fingers lightly over a raised scratch on her neck. She dipped her fingers into the bowl, starting to smear the mix on some of the newer scars. As she applied the balm, she could see O’Molo’s eyes fall to her left breast. She pulled back sharply, covering herself. O’Molo moved back, holding her hands up passively. “It’s alright, it’s alright.” She soothed. The young female inhaled sharply, trying to steady her breath in an attempt to calm herself.

“That was no accident,” O’Molo gestured to her hand now covering her left breast, “was it?”

She shook her head slowly, “…no.”

Her voice was light, strained. It felt like so long since she’d last spoken out loud. Saddened, O’Molo reached out, lightly cupping her breast and having a closer look. She swallowed hard; she felt sick, knowing how the wound must have looked to her, like a suckling hole.

“Does it still hurt?”

“I can’t feel anything.”

O’Molo’s eyes continued to scan her patient’s body. Her hand moved from her breast down to her stomach, lightly pressing, slowly massaging her swollen belly. “Are you feeling any discomfort?”

“I feel a little ill.” She replied, instinctively touching her stomach. She felt the herbalist’s hand on her shoulders, slowly lowering her down.

“I’m need to have a look at you. Can you lie down for me, sweet one?”

“Nach'she,” she confirmed softly, allowing the bigger female to lie her down gently.

“Just make yourself comfortable, Nach'she.” O’Molo said, managing a soft smile. Nach'she lay back against the fur beneath her, trying to keep her breathing level as her knees were bent upwards. She tensed lightly as she felt O’Molo’s ointment covered fingers touched her thigh, adjusting her carefully.

She let herself lie placidly as the older female repositioned her legs, planting her feet and opening her bent knees. She felt the herbalist fingers lightly glide over her. She inhaled sharply, prompting a glance from O’Molo.

“Are you sore? Am I hurting you?”

Nach'she shook her head in reply. She swallowed hard, sick at the thought of what this female could see, the lingering evidence of brutality. Craning her neck, she watched O’Molo as she examined her, a palm lightly resting on her pubis, using thumb and the fingers of her other hand to spread and probe her; she was older but not by much, perhaps she was training to be a midwife.

The tentative expertise of the herbalist calmed Nach'she’s somewhat, what played on her nerves was the look in her eyes. O’Molo’s look of concentration was undercut by something far less nurturing. Her eyelids were tight, her cheeks hard against the flesh of her face, her face hard like stone.

O’Molo lifted her gaze, Nach'she quick to avert hers. The older female’s face softened, thought there was still a hardness in her voice. “We’re almost done, sweet thing.”

The remainder of the examination was carried out in awkward silence, Nach'she’s head swimming with anxiety. She had never thought she would be seen by an outsider, never giving much thought to how she might appear to others; the look this female gave her told her all she needed to know.

O’Molo washed her and fetched her garments to wear, a welcome change for the pelt she wore previously. She cleared some space for Nach'she to bed down, hanging a curtain and laying out full furs for her to lie on and cover herself. The two ate together that evening; seasoned rib to fill her but the portion size to account for her slowly returning appetite. A sleeping draft was prepared while she finished her meal, O’Molo testing the temperature of the mixture before offering it to Nach'she.

“You need proper sleep. Tomorrow, we’ll give you something more substantial to coax your appetite.”

“I don’t want to be a nuisance to you.” Nach'she said, her words closer to a question than she intended it to be. O’Molo pointed a long finger at her.

“Then you will not argue with me.” She replied, looking sternly at the young female before a smile formed on her face. “You’re here to get better, so that is what you do. You’re my charge now, that’s been seen to.”

O’Molo ushered Nach'she into her new room, quaint and comfortable, away from any prying eyes. She helped the young female down onto her bed and lightly tipped the bottom of the clay cup with her fingers as her patient drank the mixture. She smacked loudly when she finished, hissing and lulling her tongue against the bitter taste. O’Molo chucked in response.

“That means it’s working.” She said with a smirk, placing a hand on her shoulder and lying her down gently.

“I have no way I to repay you.”

“You can sleep, that will be good enough.” O’Molo stood, pulling the curtain back as she moved into the main room. “I’ll be right through here, should you need anything.”

As the curtain was drawn, Nach'she nestled into the furs, first blinking, then wiping the mist from her eyes. It took some time but she felt the draft begin to take effect. She had no desire to fight her creeping slumber. She longed to go a night without shadows on the wall, without interpreting every sound as a threat of vicious, carnal attack. With the aid of the mixture, searching fingers and sharp talons, brutal howls past would not reach her dreams tonight.

Nach'she slept soundly for the fist time in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double post for you guys! My intended schedule took a little bit of a lull so here's two chapters instead, still working on the series so expect an update soon! I am already a few chapters ahead of this so I will try to update on a more regular basis.


	5. Chapter 5

Wolf awoke from a restless, tossing slumber. There was no sun to spill in through the window as he threw his bedding from his body, cracking his neck; he had not yet eaten and his hunger was beginning to manifest. He shuffled himself across the floor, reaching for a storage jar and retrieving a large piece of dried rump. He sank his teeth into the tough meat, twisting his neck in an effort to rip some of the flesh away, chewing loudly. Taking a cup, he scooped it into his water jug, the contents now stale and warm from having been left in the dry air all day.

His thoughts drifted back to the young female, now in O’Molo’s care. Was she sleeping soundly now, he wondered. He took a sip of his water, his brow wrinkling at the taste as he worked his jaw laboriously, the moisture doing little to soften his meal.

“What a spread.” came a young voice from behind him. “Clearly this is a meal for champions.” He turned to face the source of the voice.

The body standing in the door frame was lithe, a chest wrap and loin cloth to cover her. Despite her slender build, her limbs were hard with lean muscle, her bared stomach tight and lined from training. Wolf got to his feet, crossing the room to stand face to face with her. Though she was younger than him, she stood just about half head’s height above him.

“Can’t I get a moment’s peace, S’Huni?”

“Absolutely not. It is the duty of a younger sibling to torment their elders. To break from tradition would be unthinkable.”

S’Huni launched herself at her brother, who caught her around the waist, swinging her around the room. She planted her feet, slamming her chest into his, their wrestle quickly becoming an embrace. They broke apart, Wolf allowing himself a smile.

“You could have told us of your arrival, brother.”

“I’m sorry,” Wolf replied, shaking his head, “we were all tired after our hunt. I would have seen you, after I’d rested.”

“Better late than never, I suppose.” She shrugged. “Though, from your dinner I can assume it was a wasted journey.”

Wolf replied by slapping his chest, extending his arms to emphasize the absence of a freshly slaughtered kill. He couldn’t possibly tell S’Huni the truth just yet, he would have to allow her the opportunity to batter his pride. 

“Father wants a word.” She said, the grin falling from his face as though struck with a well timed blow. He brushed a hand through his tendrils, trying to hide his apprehension.

“Our father,” Wolf began, swallowing, “wants a word?”

“Well, I’ve been led to believe he was ours. Though I do have my doubts as to where _you_ came from.”

“I’ll come to see him in the morning.”

“There was an expected answer.” S’Huni said, folding her arms. “You and I both know that wasn’t it.”

He crossed the room, groaning as he removed his belt, his leather loin cloth falling to his ankles which he carelessly kicked away.

S’Huni rolled her eyes. “Why are you sulking? You go now, then you’ll have all the time in the world to sleep and stink. Or whatever else you do.” He shouldered her on the way past, prompting a playful slap to the back. “You didn’t even announce that you’d come home!”

“I shouldn’t have to give reports on my comings and goings.” He retorted, fastening a new cloth around his waist.

“Oh for Paya’s sake, stop being so dramatic.” She sighed, pulling him into a headlock and nuzzling at his head. “He missed you. I did too.”

Wolf couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. This couldn’t have just been a request for a social call. Someone had seen, perhaps Veno had been lurking or O’Molo had betrayed him to his father; the former seemed the more likely to him. Nevertheless, he still pulled his sister in for an embrace before they marched across the clearing to the meeting hall. Their father dwelt in a private chamber in a large roundhouse, used for large celebrations and gatherings. It was also where their father held court, where members of the community could seek advice or settle squabbles should they arise. They stopped outside the entrance before Wolf turned to look at his younger sister.

“Is he alone?” 

“Some of the outpost hunters have an audience with him, you shouldn’t have to wait long.” She jabbed him lightly in the arm before resting a hand on his shoulder. “A few of us are having a drink, come and join us when you’re through here?”

“If I’m out of here before the sun comes up.” Wolf scoffed with a smile, the two touching heads before S’Huni scurried off to join her friends. He looked out over the clearing, the sky a dark murky blue, awash with the colour of blood now sinking below the tree line. Wolf inhaled sharply, readying himself as he entered his father’s domain.

***

The earthen walls of the hall were lit with strategically placed braziers, some lingering shadow still framing the farther reaches of the room. The floor was lined with benches topped with furs, the walls dressed with spears and daggers; centred in the room was a large fire pit, which was lit for various gatherings. Wolf’s eyes traced the walls, the skulls of long dead animals looming over him, watching him proceed through the hall.

He approached the far end of the hall where a group of hunters huddled around a map laid out at their chieftain’s feet. There were four in all of them, two of them youths, the others much older than Wolf, all clad near head to toe in fur and leather.

“Along the western pass is where we propose.” Said the eldest hunter, his voice low and gruff.

“How far is this to the nearest outpost?” Tarik asked, hunkered down with the hunters. He was dressed in official attire, a fur cloak that hung partly off his shoulders. He was flanked by Chanka, one of the strongest amongst their tribe; it was rare to see his father without Chanka by his side. From where Wolf was standing his eyes looked focused, drinking in each drop of ink that displayed their territories.

“Ten miles,” the youngest piped up, “a place here would increase our hunting ground greatly.” His observation earned the youth a clip around the head from one of his elders.

“Speak when you’re spoken to.” He growled, eyes narrowed. Tarik merely held up his hand, pulling their focus back to him. His eyes were fixed on the boy.

“Your name, son.”

The young hunter averted his gaze nervously, before lifting his head to his leader. “ Yu’r- my name is Yu'ruba.”

“Tell me, Yu'ruba, with this placement, how far would this put you from your nearest water source?”

“Ten miles south westward,” Yu'ruba fought to keep his voice above a nervous mumble. His finger traces a heavy line on the map; “this river flows out from one of the greater lakes.”

“And what about this?” Tarik asked, lighting brushing the youth’s hand aside, pointing to a line marked farther northward. “This river, where would it place you?”

“That places us on the north west plateau,” one of the elders interjected, “that would place us fifteen miles from our nearest out post.”

“But how far from the nearest river?” Tarik questioned, his eyes falling on young Yu'ruba. His gaze fell quickly to the map, smoothing it out with his finger, pointing out two snaking lines.

“Here. About three miles away, give or take.” He traced his first finger to place it side by side with his second. “This river forks here, leading to this body of water in the valley beneath the plateau.”

Tarik scratched his head before placing his finger on the map, in the area Yu'ruba had pointed out on the plateau.

“You have the highest ground in this position. While slightly farther, you have a nearby water source which is independent of that of your quarry’s. For conscience sake, a well would be most useful.”

“With your permission, that is.” The older hunter urged.

“Already given.” Tarik said with a nod, the group getting to their feet as Yu'ruba collected the map, rolling it tight and tucking it under his arm. The hunters lowered their heads, Tarik bending to meet his forehead with each of theirs, a hand clasped firmly on their shoulders. “I am thankful for the service you all provide.” He turned to the young one, nodding deeply. “And I thank you for your council, young Yu'ruba.”

The hunter’s lowered their heads again before making their way; as they passed, Wolf could see Yu'ruba, a fire burning brightly in his eyes. He looked to his father, standing before him. As he neared, he caught a glimpse of a lounging finger on one of the nearby benched, the light flickering to illuminate him. Veno, the tracker, watched him as he approached.

“There he is!” Chanka boomed loudly, stepping in front of Tarik and seizing Wolf in his powerful arms, squeezing him tightly to him. “It’s good to see you, pup!”

Wolf reached up to pat Chanka on the shoulders. The older male was impossibly large, bigger than any male Wolf had ever seen growing up and while his was grown and his body was bigger, this did nothing to dwarf Chanka’s improbable size and girth.

“And you, Chanka.” He wheezed, slowly prying himself from Chanka’s grip. He looked up, the older male regarding him warmly.

“Hope you had a good hunt. Keep the two of them a little longer if you like. With Scar gone I could actually have a moment’s peace.” He let out a bark of laughter, slapping Wolf on the back, sending a heavy jolt through his spine. “I won’t keep you then!” Chanka called over his shoulder to Tarik, who nodded to his friend in reply as he departed. Now Wolf was left with skulking Veno and his father.

“When did you arrive?” Tarik asked, interlacing his fingers.

“We came back this morning, not long after first light.”

“You didn’t come to announce your arrival.”

“I was tired,” Wolf replied, “I didn’t think it was that important.”

“Ah, youthful rebellion,” Veno piped up with a hissing chuckle, “makes you feel young again, doesn’t it?” Wolf regarded Veno from over his shoulder. He made for strange company; his spindly frame, his arms and leg knotted with muscle and veins, his hard, always scrutinizing stare in spite of his lazy eye; company was the one thing Veno couldn’t seem to stand.

“Still,” Tarik cut in, ignoring his friend, “it would have been nice to see you upon your return.” Tarik stepped forward, Wolf fighting with himself to keep his father’s gaze. The older male reached out, lightly squeezing his son’s shoulder as the two brought their foreheads to meet. Wolf returned the squeeze on his father’s opposite shoulder before both parted.

“You’ve brought no game with you, I thought you might show me what you’d caught.”

“There was a storm.” Wolf replied with a half truth, cursing himself with the speed of his answer. “We had to ditch the kill and take shelter.”

“Regrettable, but wise.” Tarik said, nodding with approval. “You know too well how unpredictable storms can be. I’m sorry you couldn’t keep your kill.”

“When we were his age,” Veno cut in, still half reclined, lying back further to let his head dangle lazily, “you would have gladly tried to dart through a monsoon to prove your worth.”

“We haven’t been young for a long while.” Tarik said with a soft bark of laughter. He regarded his son again. Wolf could feel the gaze crawling over him, making him tense slightly. _He can’t know, not just by looking at you. Calm down._ “Are you sure you’re alright, son?”

Wolf nodded, his eyes just shy of meeting his father’s. “Just a little tired. S’Huni woke me to pass along your message.”

“Then I shan’t keep you.” His father said, turning to climb the small dais that lead to his seat of office, lowing himself into the carved chair. Wolf nodded, slightly bowed before turning to leave, avoiding Veno’s stare as he made for the door.

“Wolf.” Tarik called just as the young male’s foot met the threshold. He turned, his hand on the door frame.

“Yes, father?”

“Have you always taken me for a fool or is this a one time occurrence?” his father asked, leaning forward in his great chair, elbow bent on the armrest.

“I don’t understand.”

In that moment, Tarik’s stare pulled Wolf to him, even at this distance he felt that his father was only inches away, his eyes boring through him. “I gave you amble chance to confide in me about that female you brought here with you.”

Wolf’s heart sank into his stomach. His mouth became dry, finding himself unable to swallow. His eyes darter to the reclining figure in the dark. “You-” he half choked, his fist balling.

“This is my fault now, is it?” Veno asked, leaning up into a sitting position before lightly springing to his feet. “You’d do well not to point the finger at me, Wolf pup, you’re liable to make me cross.” There was something about that spindly body that unnerved Wolf, for all the size of his gaunt frame, Veno’s stare could cut stone in two. 

“Stop squabbling.” Tarik cut in, a firmness in his voice. He tilted his head to look at his son. “While it’s clear you think so highly of our Veno’s abilities, don’t go laying unjust blame at the feet of others. I taught you better than that."

He moved to stand, walking down the length of the room, patting Veno lightly on the shoulder as he past, the other male seemingly pacified by the gesture. “Uru was troubled when he came to speak to me,” Tarik began, moving to stop in front of his son, arms folded behind his back, “he urged me not to be harsh with you, that your intentions were noble but your actions rash.”

“I couldn’t just leave her there,” Wolf interrupted, finding some hidden courage in himself; his frustration loosening his tongue, “had you been there, you would have done the same.”

“_Let_. Me finish.” His farther growled, holding his hand up. Wolf’s emboldened spirit ended with that little gesture. “Do not presume to tell me how I would or would not act. You could have put not only yourself, but your companions in danger. You know this, don’t you?”

Wolf swallowed hard, his eyes falling to his feet as his hand gripped at the door frame. “I would not have risked my friends.” Wolf replied firmly. He felt unsure under his father’s scrutiny but he and he alone knew his intentions, as mighty as his father might be. “I would never see them hurt but you must understand, father, to see her as she was,” he lifted his head, looking his father in the eye, “I couldn’t just leave her. Not like that.” 

The two stood for a moment, Veno regarding them from a distance. As he held his gaze, Wolf could see his father’s eyes soften. He could see the older male was struggling to keep his stern veneer. Tarik averted his gaze for a moment before looking back to his son. “Be that as it may, you can not behave so rashly.”

“Yes, father.” Wolf murmured, nodding.

“This female, is she well?”

“As well as she can be, I suppose.” he replied, shaking that image in the cave from his mind. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I’d like to see her. When she is rested, of course. We’ll decide how to proceed for there.” Tarik said; more to himself than the other males in the room “You may go now, get some sleep.”

Wolf pushed himself off the frame, turning sharply to exit as quickly as possible, to escape from the thick, tense smog that he could feel weighing him down in his father’s presence. “Wolf?” Tarik called out again. He didn’t reply, only tilting is head to glance over his shoulder. “It’s good to have you home.”

Wolf didn’t reply. He only marched out into the darkness.


	6. Chapter 6

Nach’she woke slowly, the taste of medicine still bitter on her tongue. She stretched, her movement inhibited by layers of fur laid across her body; O’Molo must has covered her in the night while she slept to keep her warm. She sat up, her view of the rest of the hut shielded by a large pelt hung along a wooden rail hammered into the clay walls, to separate the dwelling into two smaller rooms.

She crossed her legs, craning her neck and arching her back as she held the covers to herself. The concoction the herbalist gave her keep her sleep both restless and dreamless. A dark void replaced the usual creeping shadows at dwelt within her mind, the spectres of her waking world that crept into her dreams allowing her no temporary reprieve where locked and barred by that female and her roots and herbs.

Next to where she had lain sat a cup of water and two small bowls, one containing wheat pulp topped with strips of cooked meat, it the other sat to large fruits, skinned and segmented.

She reached for her meat and pulp, the smell only beginning to catch up to her as she smacked her tongue to clear her mouth of saliva. She ate slowly, savouring the light, fluffy mash, the juices of the meat mixing with it, prolonging the flavour. She licked her fingers clean, setting the bowl down and wiping her dampening eyes before she took a deep gulp of water.

She stopped as she reached for her fruit bowl. It was quiet. Aside from the ambient sounds of the village from outside, the hut was near silent. She thought to call out to O’Molo but something stopped her voice in her throat. Instead, she stood and pushed the pelt back, stepping into the larger central room. She could see it more clearly now. On the far wall sat a tall set of shelves, each one lined with pots and other apparatus, large bushels of dried herbs and roots hung from hooks on poles fixed to the wall. A metal bowl was on the boil over a small fire pit near her feet.

Nach’she’s eyes traced the length of the room, examining O’Molo’s store. Even without her examination the night before, the other female’s expertise would have been evident by the stock of her humble laboratory. Her concentration was broken by the sound of approaching feet. Holding her new furs close, Nach’she shuffled quickly back behind the pelt into her room, peering around the edges to watch who entered.

O’Molo was followed into the hut by a male. He looked to be older than them, although still in his younger years; his body was large and strong, though a quick look at his mannerisms betrayed a sense of anxiety.

“Have a seat, if you like.” O’Molo invited, showing him the matt on the floor. He stayed standing, as if to relaxing would give away the nervousness he were trying to hide.

“I thank you for taking the time.” The male said, rolling his shoulders and looking to the door. “The matter,” he said, thinking about his choice of words, “it’s a delicate one.”

“Nothing is too delicate, I can assure you.” O’Molo replied as she padded towards her stock. “Now, could you tell me what ails you, Tu’hun.”

“I’m here for my mate.” The male named Tu’hun replied, shifting lightly from foot to foot. “She asked that I come to you, that you could help.”

“Is she unwell?” O’Molo asked. “I’d be happy to carry out an examination. Perhaps you could tell me some of her symptoms and I can give you something to take with you now.”

“She is heart sick. She is not unwell but something pains her and I fear I don’t know what I should do.”

O’Molo stopped fussing with her pots. She stared for a moment before approaching. She placed a hand on Tu’hun’s shoulder, pointing to the matt. “Sit down.” She said. Even Nach’she could tell this was not a request. Tu’hun moved to sit, crossing his legs, his knuckles resting heavily on the floor.

“I understand you were anxious in coming to me but you must tell me everything. Nothing will leave this room. I can offer you no assistance if you don’t tell me what you need.”

Tu’hun closed his eyes, his body tight and tense as he spoke. “I want to give her children. Nothing I’ve tried has worked and she can’t hide her pain at that, not as well as she thinks she can.”

Nach’she hand went to her belly, lightly stroking as she watched this male struggle out his words. She looked to O’Molo, finding her gaze there to meet her. The look in her eyes didn’t match how calmly she spoke.

“How long have you been trying?”

“It feels like it’s been a while now.” Tu’hun replied, his eyes still shut as he sat. “We started out trying three times on a weekly cycle.”

“Have you been to the midwife?”

“Old Eb’eli has looked her over. Her body is healthy and strong, she said.” Tu’hun swallowed, his arms tense as his hands closed into hard fits. His eyes opened and fell to the floor.

“You fear you could be the cause.” O’Molo said. Tu’hun sat quietly, his body tense and hard, his eyes filled with anger, shame. O’Molo turned to her shelves, Tu’hun tilting his head to watch her clink with her jars, opening them and looking inside, sometimes bringing them to her face and inhaling deeply. Nach’she saw her take a few small bulbs, put some into a leather pouch and come to squat by her patient. She held one of the bulbs up to Tu’hun, who scrutinised it closely.

“Take one of these and crush it to paste or slice it finely,” she began, holding the leather bag out to him. “You can eat it raw but it is safe to cook with food. Take one and wait four days before you try again. Give some to her as well if you think it might help. Continue until the bag is empty.”

Tu’hun reached out slowly, taking the bag from O’Molo. “This will work?”

“These are used to help with potency. We’ll strengthen the seed, I’d be surprised if you have to come back for more but please, don’t hesitate if you must.”

He nodded before getting to his feet. He looked at O’Molo, as if to say something but stopped, nodding again. She returned the gesture as he stood, reaching to lightly squeeze the male’s shoulder. He inhaled sharply, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand as he left. O’Molo crossed the room, pulling the pelt aside. “It looks like I have a little spy.”

“Will he be able to give her children with those?” Nach’she asked, her hand still clutching her belly. O’Molo smiled softly. “All we can do is wait, I am confident though. Why, are you worried?”

“He just looked so…sad.”

“He’s a good soul.” O’Molo nodded, reaching to rest a hand on the smaller female. “Don’t fret, little one. How are you feeling?”

“A little better,” Nach’she said softly, “I’m sorry, I should have waited.”

O’Molo looked behind her to the bowls on the floor. “You’re eating! Oh, that’s good. We’ll work you up slowly, don’t want to make you sick. We’ll have a hearty meal tonight.”

Nach’she nodded. She could tell this was a good soul; this was the safest she had felt with a stranger in a long time. She looked up into those warm eyes and she knew she was in safe hands. “I’d finish that if I were you.” O’Molo said, pointing to the still full bowl. “That’s good fruit, very good for you too.” As Nach’she turned to retrieve the bowl, she could hear O’Molo hastily pull the pelt back across to obscure her. Nach’she looked over her shoulder as she heard someone enter.

“Well, look who decided to show up.” She heard her say. “I was starting to forget what you looked like.”

Nach’she heard a throaty snarl in return before the other voice spoke. “Had my hands full.”

“I always wonder what you spend all your time doing sometimes.”

She heard the source of the voice throw themselves down onto the mat. She guessed the voice was male. It was hard and harsh, full of gravel but still quite high. He was much older, that she could tell.

“How’s your back?” O’Molo asked. Nach’she shuffled back a little, unsure if the new visitor would be able to see her feet at the base of the tarp.

“Been worse.” The male replied. “This damn air. Been too dry.”

“That air will the least of your worries if you leave it so long.” O’Molo replied. Nach’she watched as she lifted the pot off the fire. Taking a set of tongs, she used them to fish something out of the water. It was a large, smooth stone, wet and steaming. “What are you going to do when wet season comes? I’m not going into the jungle to find you, so don’t come crying to me.”

O’Molo moved to kneel next to the older male who was now lying on his belly on the matt. It was obvious that she knew he would be coming soon as she was already preparing for his arrival. As she pulled the pelt back ever so slightly to get a better look, she had to fight the urge to gasp, lest alerting him to her presence. His back was lined with harsh, heavily scarred gashes. It was almost impossible to tell if he had been cut or whipped, each line criss-crossing, a mess of sunken trenches from neck to tailbone. She watched as O’Molo used the tongs to set the hot stone in one of the deep gashes, causing him to tense up, grunting hard.

“Easy.” she soothed. “Try to lie still.”

She watched as O’Molo laid a stone in every crease and crevice on the older male’s back, his reaction slowly changing from one of discomfort to placid relaxation. She looked down at his face, her body tensing as she could see his eyes staring back at her. His gaze was focused and smouldering, even his left eye, which drifted slightly off mark, the corner lined with a scar that crawled up his brow, she still felt a chill run though her. He stared for a moment before allowing himself to close his eyes, giving Nach’she her cue to move back behind the pelt and remain there as he continued his treatment. 

She sat patiently, picking at her fruit as she sat on her bedding.

“The one Wolf pup brought with him,” the male begin, causing Nach’she to tense up, “how is she faring?”

“I’m guessing Wolf must have reported to Tarik, then.” O’Molo replied with a little sigh of relief.

“Something like that. Is she here?”

Nach’she couldn’t help but curl in on herself as the pelt was pulled back to expose her, the bowl still in her hand. He could feel the older male scrutinising her as he huffed through his nose.

“You should have let me know you were awake.” O’Molo said, moving to stand beside her, reaching down to coax Nach’she to her feet. While it was clear he wasn’t about to make a fuss, it was obvious the male was angry at the notion of his privacy being disturbed.

“I’m…” She felt O’Molo’s hand gently rub her back, applying a gentle pressure. She looked to her, watching the older female incline her head to the male. Nach’She looked at him again, “I’m sorry. I heard someone come in and I didn’t want to interrupt anything.”

“This is Nach’she, I’ll be looking after her for a while. Nach’she,” she gestured with her hand, “this is Veno.”

Veno stepped forward, causing Nach’she to fight the urge to nestle deeper into O’Molo’s side. He was tall and thin, his body hard and wiry, the veins standing out in his arms and legs. There was an untamed wildness to him. She felt tiny as he looked down at her, even that drifting, unfocused eye seemed unlikely to miss anything.

“She’s awfully small.”

“She’s also _right here_.” O’Molo chided, causing Veno’s eyes to flick up towards her, his body barely moving. “She’s only young. You know as well as I do that size can be effective in the early born.”

His eyes lulled back to Nach’she. “Sleep well?”

“Yes.” She managed to fight the word out of her mouth. She averted her gaze, holding out the bowl of fruit to him. When she did manage to look up, Veno seemed to be regarding her gesture curiously before reaching and taking a piece of fruit carefully between his talons.

“Heard you were unwell.”

“Yes. O’Molo is taking good care of me.” She said, managing to look him in the eye. “I am feeling better, thank you.”

“I see.” Veno said, placing the piece of fruit on his tongue before chewing loudly. “Tarik was curious as to your condition. I’ll tell him you’re fairing well.” She nodded, her eyes falling to her feet. She felt O’Molo’s fingers lightly stroke her through the fur for comfort. “She’s in good hands, Veno. Tell Tarik I intend to give him a full report. For now, she needs to rest and get stronger.”

“He’ll be told.” Veno replied before turning to make his leave. He stopped just short of the entrance. “You’re willing to keep her here in the meantime?”

“I can house her with me.” O’Molo said. Veno glanced half over his shoulder before he stepped out of the hut. Nach’she let out an audible sigh, her heart thumping in her chest.

“Are you alright?” O’Molo asked, moving to look at her patient.

“I saw it.” Nach’she began, reaching out from under her furs to grip O’Molo’s wrist. “I saw his back. I didn’t mean to. He saw me watching. He looked at me.”

O’Molo ushered her back to her bed, sitting her down slowly. She lightly squeezed her arms to reassure her. “Veno’s like that with everyone. He’s harmless, don’t let him scare you. Just keep this to yourself for me, he’s sensitive about his treatment but he’d do no harm.”

She swallowed, thinking about the scar on his face, that mass of horrid, gnarled gashes ripping into his back. “Who would do that to someone?”

“No one is about to ask him. Whoever did, they wanted to hurt him bad.”

She reached under her coverings, her fingers tracing the raised lines on her own skin. She sniffed hard, fighting back the wetness forming in her eyes. It must have been easy, she thought, for some to hurt others in such a way. She wiped her eyes, looking up at her host.

“I don’t want to take up all your room.”

“You, taking up room? But you’re so little.” O’Molo said, smiling softly. “It would be nice to have some company, don’t let it trouble you.” Nach’she smiled back, allowing her grip on her furs to relax as she finished drying her eyes. It took everything she had not to cry.


	7. Chapter 7

Wolf shifted as he felt the foot in his back. He pulled his pelt up higher to cover his head, the signal would speak well enough for itself. It did not deter who the foot belonged to, feeling himself shifted as he was kicked more forcefully. Wolf blinked hard, it was still dark outside.

“What,” he barked, rubbing his eyes. “What is it?”

“We’re going on an errand.” Veno said, standing over him. “I’ve a job. Could use an extra body.”

“What time is it?” Wolf asked, yawning loudly. He knew the answer before he even received the reply.

“We have a few hours before daybreak. Come. Quicker you move, quicker it’s done.”

He threw his pelt back, moving to his feet. He reached for a water skin, filling it from his jug and fastening the leather cord around his waist before dressing himself in his loincloth. The water would be warm and stale, his punishment for sequestering himself in his hut after the talk he had with his father. He had no desire for company, not so soon after. “What are we doing?”

“Outpost dwellers are meeting us with some Long Necks. Pens are under way. We finish those when we’re back.”

“They couldn’t have just brought them into the village?”

“They’ve other things to do. Catch a clue, pup.” Veno snorted, pushing Wolf on the back and ushering him out into the still dark morn. Uru stood waiting, arms folded. He nodded in greeting. Wolf could feel his jaw clench when their eyes met.

Veno fetched up some bare staffs that lay against the outer wall of the hut next to a bag. He tossed one to each male, who caught theirs in turn. Uru took up the lead, rounding the house and making his way towards the jungle. As Wolf made after him, Veno wrapped his own staff lightly across his chest, stopping him in his tracks.

“You fight,” Veno began, his eyes piercing into Wolf, making him feel like a child. “I beat you both. Hear me?”

Wolf only nodded, which seemed to satisfy the older male well enough. He lowered his staff and snatched up the bag. They began their trek into the jungle.

***

Veno took the lead on most of the journey, ducking and weaving under branch and brush whenever they moved off the beaten path, leaving Wolf and Uru to swat any obstructions aside with their sticks. It was clear from the confidence in how he moved, barely looking where he went that Veno knew these woods like the back of his hand. Wolf sometimes wondered why he didn’t dwell in the outposts like some of the males, putting the reason down to his crooked back.

“I hope he wasn’t too harsh with you.” Uru finally spoke up, Wolf glancing over at him. “I knew you’d tell him, it would be worse if you left it.”

“You know father.” Wolf snorted in reply, swatting large leaves out of his face as they walked.

“I know you’re angry with me. But it could have landed us in a whole heap of shit. You were only doing what you thought was right.”

Wolf stopped, turning to look at his older companion. His eyes were soft but they did not waver, not once did he avert his gaze. Wolf reached out, squeezing Uru’s shoulder firmly. It was foolish to be angry. Had they not seen eye to eye, he wouldn’t have helped to begin with. “You too.”

“Get a move on!” Veno barked from over his shoulder as he kept his pace, leaving the two to catch up. He lifted his hand to his face, letting out a yelping call as he raised his hand into the air. The call was met with another, the wave returned. “This is us.”

Leashed to a nearby tree where a small cluster of furred animals, with arched, muscled backs and long, defined limbs, with long, knotted necks that gave them their name. With them stood two of the outpost dwellers, one the youth from the meeting, Yu’ruba, the other Wolf didn’t recognize.

“May the rain wash your face.” The older of the two said, reaching to grip Veno’s right shoulder firmly. Veno reached out, returning the gesture, both bowing forward lightly.

“May the sun ever warm your back. Bit early for you, isn’t it, Junba?”

The one called Junba snorted, a tight smile forming on his face. “It’s never too early.” He looked over Veno’s shoulder, nodding to Uru and Wolf, who replied with one of their own. “Though I imagine Hiki’tombo is still snoring happily, knowing we’re the one’s on herding duty.”

“Best hope he doesn’t hear you say that.” Yu’ruba chimed him, his grin nervous and shy.

“If your brother finds out, I’ll know you told.” Junba growled, seizing him playfully by the neck. “Little Hiki doesn’t frighten me. You can help me bring him down, little grub!” He guffawed, lightly shaking him before patting him on the back. The Long Neck’s shuffled away nervously, beating their strong legs.

“While the day is young. Please.” Veno said, as he moved to stroke on of the nearby herd, looking them over quickly.

“Nine in all, as requested.” Yu’ruba began, indicating the Long Necks. “We’ve checked the milk of the females. All strong, no signs of sickness.”

“Any breeding pairs?” Wolf cut in, drawing the attention of the others as he moved forward.

“Two have paired.” Yu’ruba nodded, patting one on the back, ruffling its fur. “This one is already expecting, so she’ll need care.”

Wolf looked over the herd, both young and mature in their number. It was clear the hunters had did this with care, an extreme attention to detail. Wolf stroked one of the animals for himself, feeling the coat under his fingers. The hair was soft, exquisite.

“This is good stock.” Wolf muttered, mostly to himself as he patted the animal down.

“Of course, it’s what we do!” Junba replied jovially. “What did you bring?”

“Seeds. As requested.” Veno said, taking a pouch from his belt and tossing it to Junba. “Also, dried fruit for your stock pile.” Junba clapped his hands together and rang them, his eyes lighting up like a child who had been offered a carved toy. He gestured to Yu’ruba who unfastened the rope around the tree. He offered it to Uru, who took it firmly in hand.

“The others will follow well enough but you’ll need to lead her. Please be careful.”

Uru tugged gently, leading the pregnant Long Neck on. “She’s in good hands.”

The group exchanged their farewells, Veno handing over the sack of dried fruit. Junba’s obvious glee could be heard as the made their way back, Veno lightly swatting at the creature’s rumps with a switch as Wolf led them on with his staff.

“The little one,” Wolf said, “he seems so out of place.”

“He’ll learn.” Veno replied, groaning as he stretched. “He’s not much younger than you are. But you’re already a great warrior, aren’t you, Pup?”

Wolf scoffed in reply, earning him a crooked grin from his elder before the three gave way to silence. They made their way back onto the beaten path, the colour of blood breaking through the gaps in the foliage, the rush of the streams nearby. It was quiet here, not very exciting, but Wolf was happy to call this place home.

***

The females were already working by the time they had gotten to the outskirts. They stopped a while to admire them as they gathered fruit from the trees above.

Each female was partnered with another who would scale the great wooden bodies, the first waiting to catch their quarry; juicy, plump peaches and pears, succulent plums and all manner of sweet fruits would be thrown down into large baskets on the jungle floor. The climbers moved expertly up the trees, scaling long branches with hard, strong limbs, the males happy to watch each arched spine or firm backside. The bolder pickers would bind themselves to branches, supporting themselves on their strong legs and well placed feet, two free hands to pick and toss. 

“Don’t gawk too hard.” Veno said, nudging Wolf and pointing. “You’ll end up like those idiots.”

At the bottom of one of the trees, three familiar males had gathered to try to steal the fruit pickers attention. Quilah and Ta’hae mingling with the females below while Scar called up to one of the pickers in the tree, waving with both arms.

“Oh, go home! You’re distracting us, you little rats!”

“That hurts!” Scar called back, gripping at his chest for emphasis. “I might die of grief!”

“He means no harm.” Quilah joined in, waving to the females in the trees. “He’s just come to see if he can scrounge something sweet.”

“And firm,” Scar added, “ripe and juicy. It would be nice if you could get some fruit too!”

Scar let out a barking laugh, Quilah hanging off his shoulder as Ta’hae focused on a young female by one of the baskets, Wolf smiled as he watched her kick her feet bashfully in response to whatever the smiling young male was saying to her.

“Here, we’ve kept you this!” One of the other females called down, before the trees started raining fruit, Quilah quickly ducking aside as Scar was pelted on the head, then struck in the eye with a flying pear. He yelped loudly as Quilah quickly covered his head, the two males pelted on the backs and shoulders from above.

“Truly expert work.” Veno said as the two young males ran to the road to get some distance. “They’re foaming with lust. Can smell it from here.”

“Like you’d know what that smells like.” Scar chided, only to back away when the older male lunged at him, hissing. “Sorry, forget it.”

“This is what you’ve been doing?” Wolf asked, glancing up into the trees as they started to walk. The females cackled loudly, a few of the basket carriers shaking their chests while the climbers slapped their rumps defiantly at the two.

“We came by but you weren’t home.” Quilah said, rubbing the back of his neck where he was struck.

“And look, you’ve caught your own fine, female company.” Scar chuckled, patting the pregnant Long Neck as he rubbed his eye. “Which one of you is the father?”

“You’re one to talk.” Uru chuckled, pointing out the fruit pickers with his staff. “You really showed us how it was done. You’ve even lost one to those sirens.”

Scar stopped, watching Ta’hae who was still chatting with the young basket carrier, his shoulders hunching when he heard her laugh at something he had said “Ta’hae! Ta’hae! We’re _going_!”

The young male looked up like a startled pray animal. Before he could make his way to them, the female reached into her basket, taking him by the wrist and placing a peach in his palm, curling his fingers around it. He approached with a chorus of yowling from the others. Scar threw an arm around his shoulder.

“Such a sweet soul, you’ve brought me a snack.”

“Touch it and I kill you.” Ta’hae growled, before looking away bashfully. The others erupting into laughter. Scar playfully shook his shoulders, ruffling his tendrils. He fell back to walk in step with Wolf.

“What did he say?” He half whispered.

“He said he would give it some thought. I think he was angry I tried to hide it.”

“He won’t send her away, not for that.” Scar shook his head, reaching to squeeze his friend’s shoulder. “You saw her. Tarik wouldn’t just have you abandon her.”

Scar, Quilah and Ta’hae joined them on the short trek home. The sun was not long risen and the morning was still young. They marched through the now waking village, crossing to a patch of land that had been cleared. Wolf looking over his shoulder as they past O’Molo’s hut, his mind fixed on the female who’s name he still did not know.

There was a small gathering of males, some moving timber, others shaving down wood into posts that would pen the animals in. Chanka stood at the centre of it all, co-ordinating the effort.

“Hope you all enjoyed your walk, this is where it gets fun!” Chanka boomed, taking a thick steak of wood and hammering it into the soil with little effort. “Tie the beasts here. With this number, we’ll be done in no time.”

Wolf was actually looking forward to the work, to the sweat of a long day after having batted with his nerves the past few. He took up a stone hammer; he would not let his nerves best him.


End file.
